What We Sacrifice
by ForeverFreelancer
Summary: Prequel to The Fine Line series: Maybe he wasn't faking. Maybe not at first. But the day his memories resurface, he may find himself in too deep to make a quick escape.
1. Chapter 1 A Ringtail Reformed?

_Author's Note: Whaaaat? What is this? Another submission, and it hasn't been years? What is happening?!_

 _If you're a reader wanting an explanation, feel free to check out my bio. If I'm picking up any new readers, hello! Thanks so much for popping in!_

 _I've gotten several requests for a prequel to my Fine Line series. And I really want to write it. So, let's just see where it goes, yea?_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Sly Cooper and friends. They are copyright of Sucker Punch Productions and Sanzaru Games._

* * *

Chapter 1 A Ringtail Reformed?

* * *

"...and who am I?"

"You? You're…my partner. Constable Cooper."

"Well partner, we'd better get outta here. The ceiling's gonna go. We haven't got much time."

"Let's go."

Reaching down, Inspector Fox helped the raccoon to his unsteady feet, gripping one shoulder to help him regain balance.

As the cavern began to collapse, she held tight to his hand, and together, they hightailed it out. All the while, the logical side of her mind screamed _'What am I doing? What am I **doing**?!'_

And in answer, she told herself: _'Seizing an opportunity! Getting what you always wanted!'_

 _'I don't want this! I just told him the biggest lie I've ever told anyone!'_

 _'Not exactly. If he really doesn't remember, is it so bad to paint a new picture for him?'_

 _'YES!'_

 _'But if this works, you can turn him into an upstanding citizen. One of the good guys! You can start over. You've always worked together, joined forces to take down the true threats of the world, but now you can do it on the same side of the law! Yes it's dishonest, but if one dishonest statement can help a wandering soul get a second chance, then is it really that bad?'_

"…Ins-spector?"

Carmelita looked up at Sly, ears falling in concern at the way he winced and held his head. "I…I don't—" he tried, but the rest of his statement never surfaced.

Her eyes widened as she saw him begin to stumble again and she rushed to his side, supporting him with one arm. "Sly? You okay?" She made quick work of studying his face, noting his unfocused gaze and hearing him groan. "Are you going to be sick?" she asked.

He didn't say anything at first, giving himself a chance to get his bearings, as best he could, eyes still tightly shut. Then, slowly, he opened them again and blinked a few times. "I…I don't think so. Just…dizzy. Head…hurts…bad."

Nodding grimly, she walked with him down to the edge of the shoreline, guiding him to one of the boats that would transport them back. "Sounds like you might have a concussion. I'll get you to the hospital as soon as we reach the mainland." They were a good ways away from Paris. In fact, their current location in the South Pacific, the closest continent was Australia.

"Captain, take us to Sydney," Carmelita ordered.

"Yes ma'am," the captain responded, giving the Inspector a salute.

Wasting no time, the vixen pulled back a sleeve of her jacket, exposing her wrist communicator. She punched in a series of numbers, waiting for her gruff superior's answer.

"Barkley."

"Chief, Inspector Fox here. I have Sly Cooper. He's suffered a head injury that's causing him to have memory loss. I'm going to Sydney to seek medical attention for him."

There was a confused grumbling from the badger's end. "Memory loss? Why is this relevant? Elaborate, Inspector."

"Well sir, when he came to, he didn't know where he was or even _who_ he was."

There was a pause, and then an annoyed growl. "How do you know he isn't faking? W—"

Carmelita cut him off before he could go on about how it would be just like a low life thief to feign injury to escape being booked. "He's not. Believe me, I'm looking at him right now. He's dizzy and disoriented. I know what signs of a concussion look like, and he's definitely not faking." When her boss didn't immediately start yelling, she went on. "And I promise, the moment he gets discharged, we'll be headed straight for HQ."

"You'd better be," was all he answered with. "The moment he's released."

"Yes sir." She pressed the button on her communicator, huffing out a sharp exhale once the call had ended. She was off the hook for now, but she'd get an earful back at the office. Luckily she had an idea of how to explain the situation. But that could wait. Right now, Sly needed help.

While the captain set a course for the mainland, Carmelita sat next to the pained raccoon. The whipping wind was making a mess of her hair, blue flyaway strands constantly brushing against her face, and the small waves created as the boat sped across the water was causing salty droplets to pelt her in the face. But none of that seemed to bother her. Brown eyes that normally looked upon the thief in frustration and rage now gazed down at him with deep concern and worry. His eyes were closed, and he still held the side of his head, breathing in shallow, ragged breaths.

She gently laid a palm against his forehead. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.

It took him a moment to answer. "About the same." He tilted his head back, using one arm to brace himself against the side of the boat. "S-sounds like someone's excited for you to get back," said Sly, voice slurring somewhat as he gazed up at the stunning blue-haired vixen. "Can't s—say I blame 'im."

Carmelita shook her head. "That's how he is with everyone, don't take it personally. He isn't the best at showing compassion."

"So…why do we work for him?"

A sad smile crept across her lips. "Because we have a thirst for justice and a passion for keeping the everyday evil that plagues our world at bay, no matter the cost."

"Hmmm," the raccoon hummed. "Eloquent _and_ beautiful. Know I'm not dreaming, 'cause my head's killing me. Man if you're seriously my partner, then I'm one lucky guy."

The vixen's cheeks burned a brilliant red from his words. Ever the silver-tongue, that ringtail. But this time, it really felt like it came from a place of true candor.

With her fingers she combed back her hair, but alas, it didn't stand a chance against the wind. "Well it wasn't so lucky that you hit your head." Maybe it was, in a way, but the intense pain and slurred speech part, not so much. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you get the help you need."

Though his eyes were half-closed and a little unfocused, they harbored unmistakable warmth as he smiled at her. "Thanks, Inspector."

"You can just call me Carmelita."

"Carmelita…" He nodded. "And…who am I again?"

"You're Sly Cooper. A very brave and revered Constable working for Interpol. You've dedicated your life to putting the most elusive of criminals in prison, where they belong." She gave herself a mental slap for laying it on a little thick like that. But she had to sell it.

"Wow…so I'm really good at what I do?"

Carmelita smiled. "The best in your league."

This had Sly smiling too, until he realized…

"But I…don't remember how to do my job."

Carmelita's lips pressed together in thought. "I can help with that," she finally said. "But don't worry about any of that right now. You need to relax." She removed her uniform jacket. Though spattered with mud, it was still better than nothing. She folded it and gently tucked it under his head. "Lie back and rest."

She kept watch over him until they docked at Sydney. And all the while, her mind battled over whether she was doing the right thing, or if she was making a _huge_ mistake.

[][][]

Sly stared up at the boring white ceiling tiles as he lay in a small bed in the emergency room. If the lumpy rectangle could even be considered a bed. One leg dangled over the side, bushy ringed tail draping itself over the bedside in a similar fashion.

He overheard bits and pieces of a hushed conversation Carmelita was having with someone out in the hall. One of the doctors perhaps? He heard phrases like 'strictly confidential' and 'sensitive situation' and something about adhering to HIPPA laws.

Before long, the doctor entered, followed closely by Carmelita.

The aging shrew walked in. In his hands were images taken from routine CT scans. "Alright, got some pictures of your brain. Wanna see?"

The raccoon perked up. "Sure. Do they look cool?"

The physician shrugged. "I've been practicing for so long that all brains have begun to look the same to me. Four lobes, grooves, sulci, basilar artery foramen, corpus callosum…but uh, to a pair of fresh eyes, it probably looks pretty neat." He held up the films to the light as he pointed out various areas and lobes. Sly couldn't make any sense of what the guy was saying, but he nodded anyways whenever he felt it was appropriate to. And it did look really interesting; he'd never seen the inside of his own head before!

Carmelita studied the films too, looking over the doctor's shoulder curiously.

"So there's impaired functioning in the areas responsible for memories stored up until your injury. How long it will be like that, I couldn't tell you. The mind is complex and everyone's is different. But you definitely suffered a pretty nasty concussion. I'd like you to stay overnight for observation. Just to ensure no secondary issues arise."

Sly shrugged indifferently. "Fine by me." It wasn't like he had other plans. Not that he could remember, anyways.

The shrew nodded, turning to Carmelita. "He's going to need plenty of rest until he's made a full recovery. And physical activity should be kept to a minimum. If he gets headaches, Tylenol is fine, but stay away from anything that thins the blood. Now then, I assume one of your officers will be keeping watch during his stay?"

"I'll be staying with him," she answered, resolve thick in her tone.

Brows lifted over the coon's tired eyes. "Carmelita, you don't have to—"

"I know," she quickly cut him off, voice softening when she continued. "I _want_ to."

Sly frowned. "I'm sure you have more important matters on your plate, Inspector."

"More important than making sure my partner is okay? I don't think so." She crossed her arms, auburn tail weaving left and right. "I'm staying and that's final."

The doctor placed the images back safely in a manila folder. "Doesn't matter who, just as long as someone's here to keep an eye on you."

When the doctor had finished conversing with his ringtailed patient, he left to continue on his rounds. Carmelita, however, stayed put. She only left once to make a call, and when she returned, Sly offered a small smile, too weak to give much more than a lift of his hand in greeting before letting it flop back down at his side.

"You're still awake, I see," she said, stepping back into the room with a look that was stern but somehow a bit concerned as well.

"You were only gone for like, five minutes," he replied, tail flicking idly.

"Oh…right. Sorry," she murmured, ears lowered in apology.

Sly titled his head. "Talking to the chief?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I was. I was just telling him that I'm staying here overnight with you and that we'll both report back in when you're well enough to leave."

He nodded. "You really didn't have to. You look pretty beat as it is."

She shook her head and smiled. "I can sleep later. Right now, I need to look out for my partner."

He pulled at the starchy hospital blanket, trying to get comfortable on the intensely uncomfortable bed. At least the blankets were warm here.

"Besides," she went on. "It's kind of my fault that you're hurt, so I feel I owe it to you."

"Your fault? What'd you do? Hit me?"

A sound that was part laugh, part scoff fell off her lips. "No, you numbskull." Probably a poor choice of words, considering the matter. "You got hit by the guy we were after tonight. The shot was actually meant for me, but you jumped in front and saved me."

"Whoa, really?" He stared at her a moment before a smirk began to tug at his grey muzzle. "We must be pretty close then."

Carmelita stared right back, speechless at first. "Well, we do work together quite often."

She wasn't lying about that.

He nodded again, satisfied with that. So he'd thrown himself in the line of fire to save her. Either he was the most selfless guy on earth, or something deeper ran between them. Too bad he couldn't piece together that connection right now.

Half an hour later, Sly had upgraded to an actual room outside the ER, complete with a bathroom, TV, an armchair that Carmelita already claimed, and a slightly softer bed with real sheets. Score!

The vixen removed the hairtie from her thick blue braid, setting her curly locks free to fall across her shoulders as she took seat in the armchair.

"You gonna spend your night watching me sleep?"

"That's the idea."

"I'm just saying…that doesn't sound like a fun way to spend your night. 'M sure you got a guy waiting for you to come back home to."

"I don't, actually."

"No?"

She shook her head. "No. I live alone."

"'S beautiful as you are? Find that pretty hard to believe. Even if my head is all banged up."

She scoffed again, but the sound was light and void of harshness. "You need to get some rest. You had a long day."

He nodded, masked caramel eyes gradually closing. "Mkay. Good night, Inspector."

"Good night…Constable," she whispered back. There was no way she was about to join him in the land of slumber. Way too many thoughts ricocheted around in her mind. The only thing she could be absolutely certain of? Reporting back in to work was going to prove quite interesting.

[][][]

The next morning, Sly was released from the hospital. And then it was straight to the airport to board a plane to take them all the way back to Paris, which took another whole day in itself. Oh the perks of a job involving international criminal pursuit.

When they landed, it was late afternoon. And they were both positively worn out. Carmelita had only gotten snatches of sleep here and there, the stress of the situation getting to her. She caught a few extra hours on the plane, but when she wasn't sleeping, she was keeping an eye on Sly. Per doctor's orders, and also out of concern. What she was doing was positively insane. Taking him away from the life he'd always known. From the friends he'd made, from his home…wherever it was that he happened to live.

But…that part of him could be gone forever. And besides, she was saving his life too. If she could take a world-renowned thief who spent his days, and nights, running from the law and turn him into an honest member of society, help him see the light when he wasn't hiding out in the shadows, was that really so bad? How could it be bad, to help someone become 'good'?

Her meeting with the chief didn't grant her much time to deliberate that matter.

She was a good three feet taller than him and was fearless in the face of crime lord brutes, but he could still intimidate her like no one else.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!" the stout badger roared, practically snarling up at her, slamming both hands on his desk, papers scattering to the floor.

"Sir," she attempted, holding a hand up in surrender, pointed ears falling back. In the other, she held images of Sly's brain scans. "I have actual proof that his memory is impaired! He knows his name and thinks he's a Constable, and that's it!"

"Because YOU TOLD HIM he was!"

She could only flinch in response at his thundering voice.

He growled and covered his face with both hands in frustration before snatching the images out of her hand to have a look at them. While he looked them over, she took the opportunity to plead her case.

"Look, I think we could really utilize his abilities. He doesn't know he was a criminal. I say we jump at this chance and show him the ropes. It's a two for one shot. We remove one of our targets, and then gain another officer at the same time. And then we don't have to worry about chasing him and putting him in jail. We can convince him that he's a good guy!"

Barkley was silent for several moments, his gruff expression never changing. He took a long pull from the cigar in his hands, smoke puffing out as he exhaled. Then he finally looked up at the vixen through narrowed eyes.

"Bring him in here. Let me talk to him."

"Yes sir."

Carmelita was gone in a flash, reappearing minutes later with Sly, a very calm, unassuming look on his face.

"Sly Cooper."

"Hello Chief."

He pointed at one of the empty chairs in an aggressive jabbing motion. "Have a seat."

He sank down into the chair nearest him, quirking a brow at the badger, wondering why he seemed so angry. After all, all they'd done was show back up to work.

"So," Barkley began. "I'm told you suffered a concussion and now everything's a little fuzzy."

"That's a good way to describe it," the coon answered, tone honest and tired. "I just know my name, and that I work with Inspector Fox."

Barkley grumbled under his breath. "You really can't remember anything else?"

Brown eyes stared off into space as he tried to sift through the dark void that was now his mind. "Erm…" He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "I remember coming to and seeing Carmelita. We left the island we were on and we took a boat to Sydney. Before that…I'm drawing a blank…sorry."

"So you don't know what you were doing there?" the badger asked.

Brow quirked, Sly looked to the vixen. "I was working with Inspector Fox on a bust or something, right? Did we catch the guy?"

Barkley slowly nodded, eyes still narrowed as the gears in his head began to turn. "We did."

Sly nodded back. "That's good, then. The doctor said I could come back to work as long as my symptoms don't flare up again, and I take it easy."

The chief got out of his chair and stalked over to the much taller male, looking him up and down. "You know that working in law enforcement involves taking down thieves and anyone who works alongside them, don't you, Mr. Cooper?" he baited.

Sly blinked. "Err, yes sir. But I don't think it'll be hard. I don't remember any cases you had me working on, but with a little refresher, I'll probably be good to go."

Barkley stayed silent in contemplation, and to Carmelita, the seconds that ticked by felt like hours.

"Okay," he said, his voice a pinprick that burst the bubble of tense silence. "I'll give you the weekend to recover. And then I want to see you here Monday morning, 7 AM. Sharp. Got it, Constable?"

"Yes sir," he replied.

They shook hands and Sly turned to leave. That is until Carmelita placed a hand on his arm to stop him. "Um, wait for me out in the hall, okay?"

"Okay."

When Sly was out of earshot, Carmelita rushed over to her hotheaded boss. "Chief, I think this is a really good thing we're doing. And I just wanted to thank you for giving him the opportunity."

Barkley pulled a lighter from his pocket, lit his cigar and took another pull. "We have a lot of paperwork to add to our already massive stacks. And you do realize if this goes awry in any way, it's _your_ hide that'll be on the line."

Her stomach felt like it had frozen into a block of ice, but she nodded calmly on the outside. "Of course."

He nodded, gesturing to the door in a shooing motion. "Alright. Dismissed, Inspector."

She left his office, quickly rejoining her now partner. He was staring through the glass window into a room down the hall that was filled with enormous screens displaying maps and video surveillance clips, and about a dozen officers tapping away at computers.

When Carmelita approached, he looked her way and offered a small smile. Not a trace of deceit to be found in his expression.

"Glad the Chief's giving you the weekend off to recuperate," Carmelita said. "Give you the time you need to heal before reporting back in to this madhouse."

Sly looked from her beautiful vulpine face, to her uniform and the pistol in her holster, to the room full of officers. Down the hall, he could hear a meeting being conducted by a male with a loud, booming voice. Then his eyes met Carmelita's again, and he frowned in unease.

"Inspector—"

"Sly, we're partners. Just call me Carmelita."

"Okay…Carmelita…I don't remember anything involved with my job."

Her expression softened in sympathy. "Don't worry. I doubt he'll put you on a new case right after a major head injury."

"I feel fine…I just can't remember—"

She held a hand up to stop him. "I know, I know. But there's no need to stress. Like I said, I'll help you. Tomorrow, we can visit the on-site training facility. You're not ready for combat but we can definitely get some target practice in."

"No combat? I thought I was the best in my league."

There was a nervous twitch to the vixen's tail. "You are! But you don't need to push yourself until you've fully healed. Best to play it safe."

"What if I get an assignment next week?"

"I'll make sure any assignment you're given is one that I oversee. If you're out in the field, I'll be there to take the lead. Until you're ready to take flight, you'll stay right under my wing, partner."

He smiled that same small, innocent smile. "Another stroke of luck. I certainly look forward to that."

A surge of warmth bloomed deep within the vixen, but she ignored it, pushing her bangs out of her eyes as she cleared her throat. "Me too. But now it's probably best that you get home so you can rest up before 're-training.'"

He stared at her in awkward confusion for several seconds before the reality of the situation smacked her square in the face.

"You…you don't remember where you live, do you?"

He shook his head.

She crossed her arms, pacing a bit as she tried to come up with a solution. No way was she getting in contact with his gang members. Maybe she could put him up in a motel room? No, that would get expensive fast. And though the job was noble, it didn't provide substantial pay. Her apartment was proof of that.

Her apartment…

No. That was a terrible idea. There was no way in hell that would work. That was just asking for trouble!

The words came out before she could stop herself.

"Why don't you stay at my place? Until we can find you in the system and figure out where it is that you actually live."

He looked rather intrigued by the idea. "I...I really appreciate the offer. But that's not necessary. Besides...I can't impose on you like that."

"It's no imposition. I have a spare room."

 _Idiot!_ a voice in her head shouted. _You just wait, this is all gonna blow up in your face!_

She blocked it out, deciding, for once in her life, to listen to her heart.

"Please. I feel I owe you this at least, after risking your life for me."

A grin broke out on his muzzle. "Well now, how could I refuse a lovely lady twice?"

She smirked in return, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. "Come on. I'll drive you."

* * *

 _Sweet inspiration, how I've missed you! Maybe I'll update Tennessee's story next! Who knows...who knows._

 _Very excited to share this with you though. It's so good to be back. :)_

 _To my guest reviewer, I was waiting for someone to mention that. I hoped no one would be too mad about it, even though it's not technically breaking canon. See, in my mind, there's no way he'd get hired as a cop if they didn't have some foundation of proof that he's telling the truth. It's law enforcement, after all. Buuuut, later, he'll have his memory back, and he **will** be faking. It'll all come together, you'll see. :)_


	2. Chapter 2 Eyes on the Prize

_I am seriously loving all these questions y'all are throwing at me. I don't even know if a lemon is a good idea or a bad one, to be perfectly honest. I guess, if you feel strongly about it one way or another, you should let me know though, yea?_

* * *

Chapter 2 Eyes on the Prize

* * *

"Welcome back to home base."

Carmelita watched over her shoulder as her new partner followed her up the stairs that led to the front entrance of Interpol Headquarters. The raccoon's gaze roamed over the towering pillars supporting the roof's gabled front portion. The pillars looked very climbable and for some reason that he couldn't quite place, this little fact appealed to him.

Of course, the architecture wasn't as grand a sight as the vixen waiting for him at the top of the steps, her tail weaving almost nervously despite the composed smile on those dark red lips.

"Thanks," he answered, keeping up with her but letting her take lead, for at the moment, she knew the place better than he did. "It's…good to be back." He didn't really know what to say. Having your mind be turned into an empty slate didn't really lend much to the department of sentimentality.

They passed by the front desk, where a raven-haired wolf and a few other secretaries sat at their post.

"Morning, Kat," said Carmelita, not even trying to hide her smile.

The canine was quick to scrunch her muzzle up and stick her tongue out in a mock gag, but didn't look away from her computer as she typed away. "Don't make me come from behind this desk and choke you."

"I would _love_ to see you try," Carmelita quipped back with a casual pop of her hips, knowing full well her friend was all bark. At least with her.

Sly glanced the wolf's way and she gave him a playful little wave and smile. "Constable," she purred. Beside her, two other secretaries whispered and tittered quietly to each other. Not caring to stick around to overhear the gossip queens do what they did best, Carmelita pulled Sly past the row of phones and front desk personnel, and down the winding hallway before them.

Along the way, the two earned quite a few pointed stares from other officers as they passed. Carmelita ignored them completely. "So, before we can get started with target practice, we have to report in for roll call, and then you'll need to be issued a new pistol. Yours was lost in the wreckage on the island, along with your badge. But they're working on making you a new one. You should have it by tomorrow." One more little white lie for the stack.

"Alright," he answered, glancing at the male officers staring him down and the attire they wore. Then his gaze dropped to his own clothing. "Also, can I ask, what's up with this?" he questioned, grabbing at the blue sweater he was wearing. "My uniform looks nothing like everyone else's, clearly."

"Of course it doesn't. You were in disguise, posing as a decoy to bait the perpetrator." And out came another one.

"Your real uniform is waiting in my office. But the department is trying out different styles to introduce for the guys, so you get a brand new one today. Lucky you!" Bam, lie number three and they'd just gotten here. How long would this flimsy sandcastle stand before the waves of truth ultimately knocked it down?

"Oh…neat!" was all he replied with.

A quick shower and change and Constable Cooper was ready to conquer the coming day's work. Or at least he would be, once he received that new pistol.

He soon made it back to her office. There, Carmelita appraised his appearance. The uniform consisted of a white collared shirt, basic khaki pants, combat boots, and a muddy brown trench coat.

Boy did he wear the uniform well.

The way her eyes traveled over his frame would've had him grinning and serving up a flirtatious remark, were he his normal self. But instead, her appraising gaze had him frowning as he looked down. "…do I look alright?" he asked, the unsure hesitance in his voice something she'd seldom, if ever, heard.

Eyes snapping back up to his face, she gave herself a good mental chiding for her lingering stare. "Yes, better than alright." Stepping up to him, she reached up to smooth down the lapels of his coat. "You look very nice, Constable. The new uniform suits you."

At this, his smile returned tenfold and she could swear she began to feel weak in the knees. Damn it he was handsome.

"Come on," she said, taking his arm. "Let's go report to the chief, and then we'll get you reacquainted with your firearm."

After their mandatory roll call, they sat in on a very monotonous morning meeting. Most of the Constables and Inspectors present would have cases to attend to, but Barkley and Inspector Fox had discussed the...current situation. No cases for either of them today. She had a different task he'd given her. As for Sly, well, the badger was glad to see he was punctual, at least. For now, he reserved any further judgment.

When the meeting concluded, the fox and raccoon resumed their journey through the halls of HQ that would take them to the training grounds. And on the way, they bumped into a few more officers from earlier.

At the opposite end of the hall, stood a portly English bulldog, and approaching him, a tall red fox with spiky styled fur atop his head. Only the spikes were looking on the unkempt side this morning.

"How goes it, Tony?" the bulldog asked.

The taller fox yawned, taking a sip from the thermos of coffee he gripped. "It goes," he answered. "I'm pretty beat, not gonna lie."

The bulldog nodded. "Yea, I can tell. You look like shit."

"Ah thanks man," Tony answered in weary monotone without missing a beat, taking another sip of the hot beverage. "You know not all of us can look as beautiful as you after pulling an all-nighter."

Shrugging, the canine puffed his chest out comically, which also caused his gut to poke out. "Hey, we all have to deal the hand we're dealt, I can't help it that I look this good every day of my life. Sometimes it's a curse."

"Oh I bet." Tony nodded, trying to hold in another yawn.

"You sure you can handle all these double shifts?"

Tony chuckled, a comically weary sound. "Careful Burke. You're starting to sound like you're concerned for my well-being."

Burke guffawed at that and shook his head.

With the signaling ' _ding!_ ' the nearby elevator door opened and the bulldog gave the male fox a parting wave as he stepped inside. Turning to continue on his way, Tony stopped, tired eyes widening just a bit at the pleasant sight just ahead.

"Well, the morning just got a whole lot brighter," he said, standing a little straighter now. "Hellooo, Inspector."

"Hello yourself, Tony," she responded, giving a small but friendly smile.

As much as it pained him to do so, he looked away from Carmelita's lovely face, distracted by the guy walking alongside her. "And…Cooper." The enthusiasm from before had suddenly diminished. The mere fact that he was standing here right now, and not being ushered to a holding cell in cuffs? Well, to say it got under the fox's skin would be putting it mildly.

Sly merely threw up a hand to the other. "Morning."

"Uhh, Tony," Carmelita jumped in, and rather quickly. "I'm not sure if the Chief informed you or not, but Constable Cooper here has suffered a pretty bad injury on our last case and he doesn't remember anything before the incident on the island. So uh, we'll be teaming up a lot more often, just until he can stand on his own again."

"Yea, I heard all about it, at our impromptu meeting last Friday. You were the main topic of discussion, Constable." It really left a bad taste in his mouth, to have to call him that. "Got everyone talking about how brave and noble it was of you to throw yourself in harm's way like you did."

"Well, isn't that what we do every day? Put our lives on the line to save others?" asked Sly.

"Yea, but…well, let's just say that's the first time you've ever done something so…morally sound like that."

Carmelita shot her fox friend a look that told him it was time to shut it.

Sly glanced behind him, at the intersection of another set of corridors where officers milled about. "Yea, I couldn't help but notice that I've gotten a few dirty looks from coworkers. Do I have some kind of reputation around here or something?"

Tony twisted and untwisted the lid of his thermos, not looking up at the raccoon as he replied. "Yea, something like that."

"Okay, well, as much as I'm sure we'd all love to stand around and shoot the breeze, Sly and I have some targets in the range we need to be shooting instead. Shall we, Constable?" She shot the male fox a harsh glare in passing. But instead of shying away from her hostile hint to back off, he grabbed her shoulder.

She whirled around, a snappy retort on her tongue, but it never came, for Tony, having dropped his annoyed front, now looked at her with a more genuine expression. Voice softened, he asked: "Could we talk later? You know…catch me up on everything?"

Some of the fire inside the vixen had dwindled, enough to bring her to nod, her long braid swaying with the movement. "Sure. I'll see you later."

A smile pulled at the fox's muzzle, and he turned, throwing a quick salute over his shoulder. "See you around, Inspector."

As Carmelita continued to lead Sly to the training facility, her ringtailed partner's curiosity flourished enough for him to speak up. "Who was he, again?"

The vixen's eyes flashed up. "Huh? Oh, that's just Tony. He's worked here for a few years now. And don't listen to him, by the way. The only reputation you've made around here is as a devoted officer well on his way to getting a promotion. I think he's just a little jealous and isn't hiding it well."

The raccoon arched a brow. "He a relative of yours? Or a friend?"

"Friend. He's…just a friend."

Sly smirked. "You sure about that?"

Carmelita scoffed, her muzzle tilting upward. "Absolutely positive. He's a good friend and a very reputable member of the force. But I wouldn't say he's my type, exactly. Besides, I already told you, I'm not involved with anyone, and I don't really see that changing anytime soon."

"Don't tell me you're one of those girls that's married to her work."

She frowned at him. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Crime never sleeps, if you want to make to world we live in a better place, there are a few things you have to give up in the process."

"That doesn't sound very fulfilling to me."

"It _is_ ," she insisted. "Trust me. You just have to be strong enough to pay the price. If we can keep the public safe from corrupt criminals lurking out there, then it's worth a few sleepless nights and eating alone."

The raccoon shook his head. "With all due respect, Inspector, what's the point of life if you're not actually out there living it yourself? There might not be a lot of mental recall going on in my head, but I still know that we all have needs that a career alone can't sate."

Her eyes narrowed. "Sounds like you're insinuating something outside the walls of professionalism, Constable."

"I'm just saying," he replied in a chuckle. "You need to have some balance. That's all. Wanting to improve the world we live in is really admirable. But you should let yourself have fun too."

"I have fun all the time! Believe me. In fact, I'm about to have a whole lot of fun schooling you in the shooting range."

He hummed in amusement at that. "Someone sounds very sure of herself."

[][][]

As luck would have it, aside from the supervisory officer, the shooting range was completely deserted, which was a relief to Carmelita. This meant she could train her partner in peace without being bombarded by a barrage of questions. This elaborate charade was starting to wear thin.

Before they reached their destination, they met up with the chief again, who issued Sly a shock pistol of his very own from the HQ arsenal.

"It's not loaded. For obvious reasons," Barkley had said. "But I trust that Inspector Fox here will…re-coach you on how you use it."

And as the vixen watched Sly fiddle with the shock weapon, looking immensely confused, she knew her help would be appreciated.

"Okay," she started, pointing out the basic structure of the pistol. "It works the same as any other firearm. Grip, barrel, bore, magazine trigger and trigger guard. Semi-auotmatic, which allows for quicker succession of firing. But instead of regular bullets, we have these." She held up a tiny sleek device in her thumb and forefinger. Elongated but coming to a point at each end, cyan blue in color, no longer than an inch and a half in length. "Each one has the ability to knock even the strongest of adversaries down with a case of nasty third-degree burns."

Sly's eyes widened. "That sounds…unnecessarily cruel."

Carmelita nodded. "Exactly. That's why we use a low charge when pursuing criminals. High charge is only used in emergency cases of self-defense. On low charge, it still hurts, but it only stuns long enough to halt physical movement, giving us enough time to take them down."

"So…it paralyzes, but just for a short while, and they're okay."

"Right. I despise anyone who breaks the law, but it doesn't have to be done in a ruthless way. This is just more efficient than regular handguns. Well, in the eyes of the higher-ups anyways."

Sly turned the pistol over, hand wrapping around the grip. "So does everyone follow that rule?"

"What rule?"

"The rule of using pistols on low charge in pursuit?"

"Oh…I honestly don't know. But they're supposed to. I know I do. I'm sure it's hard, especially when you're staring into the eyes of a rapist or a murderer. But using more force than necessary, while it might be satisfying, would make us no better than them. We're the good guys. Gotta remind yourself of that, sometimes."

Sly nodded. "Well, that's honorable."

She uttered a dismissive hum and shrugged. "Just the right way to get the job done. Now then, you ready to give it a go?"

"Definitely!"

After loading his weapon, she passed it back to him. "Alright, Cooper. Let's see what you got."

Hands on her hips, she stood a few feet away, observing him in action. She stayed quiet, noting his stance and the way he aimed. The first fired orb of electricity rocketing out of the barrel had nearly scared the raccoon right of his fur, now that he knew what this little pistol was capable of. Some of his previous confidence had taken a nosedive. And the vixen could easily tell."

"It's okay," she spoke softly, placing her hands on his shoulders and gently guiding them back. "Remember, you're in control. Nothing happens until you pull that trigger." She circled until she was standing behind him, reaching forward and supporting Sly's arms with her own. "Arms straight ahead. Keep those shoulders back, feet apart." She nodded in approval. "Good."

Sly tried to keep looking ahead at the bullseye, but it was some kind of boring in the company of the oh so lovely Inspector Fox. Lovely wasn't even an acceptable adjective; she was a downright knockout. And her body's close proximity to his own and the all too pleasant scent rolling off her auburn coat in waves was steadily becoming a distraction for the raccoon.

"I don't know how well my concentration is going to hold up," he admitted, glancing back at her. "With someone so beautiful standing this close to me."

She felt a swarm of butterflies take flight in her stomach. Gaze lowered, she cleared her throat and stepped away.

His ears dropped and he frowned. That…hadn't exactly been his intention with such a statement.

Noticing his disappointment, she stifled a giggle and smiled. "Sorry…don't want you distracted though. This is important."

With a look of playful confliction, he turned his attention back to the target and its bland set of black and white scoring rings.

She continued to watch, giving him the space he needed while staying close enough to have a good view.

And what a view it was.

Several times, when the vixen was supposed to be observing his abilities with his new pistol, she caught herself observing other things. Like the way his able hands gripped his weapon with purpose. The focus of his striking caramel brown eyes as he carefully aimed. The ripple of his toned physique obscured only by the simple layers of his uniform. The agitated flick of his ringed tail when he'd fire out of zone of the target. And that heart-stopping smile of triumph on his muzzle when he'd hit the bullseye.

He looked so good in the Interpol attire. And he surely looked even better underneath it.

 _Stop it!_ she chastised herself, looking away and shutting her eyes. _God, what is wrong with you?! You're supposed to be making sure he can handle himself with that pistol! And you're over here ogling the guy. Yes he's attractive but he's your partner and you're at work. Snap out of it and focus!_

"So, uh, how am I doing?"

His silken voice snapped her out of her inner berating, and she looked up, walking forward to survey the target. Most of the target's canvas was singed at the far corners, but he'd gotten quite a few shots in on the outer rings. And he'd even gotten a direct hit one or twice on the bullseye's center as well.

"Nice," she complimented. "See, not as hard as you thought, huh?"

"Well, if I did it before, it's probably instinctual, right?"

Her proud smile faded the faintest bit. What in the world could she say in response to that? She didn't want to lie to him anymore, even though this was technically one giant lie. So she decided to give a much less committal nod of her head. "Maybe." Drawing her own pistol from the holster on her hip, she clutched it in both hands with a teasing smile. "Now, let me show what _I_ can do with this little baby."

The vixen's eyes possessed a gleam Sly hadn't yet gotten to see. But when she wielded her pistol and pulled the trigger, it was impossible to look away.

She fired again and again, showing the target no mercy. And when she was done, there was a gaping hole in the middle. The bullseye was no longer visible, as it had disintegrated to mere ashes on the floor.

Sly whistled, mouth falling open as he studied what was left of the canvas. "Wow," he murmured in amazement. "Remind me to never piss you off while that thing's in reach."

She grinned, lowering the pistol and holstering it once more. "Told ya I'd school you."

"I humbly accept defeat, Inspector."

She shook her head and smirked back at him. "It's only because I've been doing this for years though. I could just about shoot blindfolded at this point."

"Something tells me that wouldn't be a good idea..."

Carmelita laughed, a mesmerizingly sweet sound that caused her entire face to light up.

And now it was Sly's turn to be attacked by those swarming butterflies. Truly a work of art, this vixen.

"I gotta say though," she went on, crossing her arms. "For not knowing how to use it, you certainly impressed me."

"Yea?" He perked up, a hint of a cheeky smile on his muzzle. "So there's hope for me, yet?"

"As long as you keep practicing and give it your all, I think the sky's the limit for you, Constable."

His teeth gleamed as he flashed an ecstatic grin from her praise, to which she chuckled and shook her head again.

"Oh hey," he said. "Real quick, could you maybe show me that stance again? Just for a small refresher. Let me see you do it."

She cocked a brow at him in slight confusion. "Erm…there's not really a wrong way to stand when you're holding a firearm. But it helps to stand up straight with your arms straight out to ensure a steadier, more precise aim. You know, just…" She gripped her pistol, whipping it back up and holding it at arm's length in front of her, planting both feet firmly on the ground. "Like this."

He held a hand out. "Stay like that for just a second."

She tilted her head, puzzled frown deepening, but still she humored him. "Alright…" She tossed a smirk his way. "You gonna take notes on proper posture or something?"

"Kind of," he answered. "But I hope it's alright if I use my eyes instead of a pen and paper." Safely holstering his own shock pistol, he slipped behind her. Taking a step forward, he extended his arms out, anchoring both on either side of hers. Carefully, so very, very carefully, he pulled back, until their bodies were touching, his torso barely grazing Carmelita's hip.

She felt herself take in a breath that she hadn't consciously allowed, mouth falling open. Slowly, she turned her head, eyes lidded when her nose brushed against her handsome partner's. When her gaze lifted, her lidded eyes locked with Sly's, and he kept her gaze for several gratifying moments.

Were he absolutely anyone else on the planet, she would've elbowed him hard in the stomach and cursed him for all he was worth in her native tongue. But instead, all she did was stare right back in silence.

"Now I'll never forget," he breathed in her ear, smiling innocently as he lowered his arms and stepped aside. "Well, this bruised head of mine permitting," he amended, pointing to his skull.

She would never tell a living soul how his sensual charm had fire pooling deep within her very core. Hell, she wasn't even sure she could fully admit it to herself.

She made quick work of getting ahold of herself, and putting some distance between herself and Sly, trying to keep the curtain of professionalism drawn. And drawn tightly.

Pushing a few stray locks of hair out of her face, she led Sly out of the shooting range, bidding the safety supervisor a curt farewell. The shaggy terrier's smile to them in parting was a little too big. Perhaps he was disappointed that the show had ended so abruptly.

"The hell was that about back there?" she demanded as they left.

Sly followed, seeming altogether oblivious. "What?"

"You know what! You were getting _way_ too close in there and you know it!"

"I was only trying to make sure I had it right," he assured her. "I've got a lot to learn from you. You're a very good teacher. I doubt a lot of other officers around here would be this patient with an amnesiac coworker." When she stalked ahead and didn't answer, he jogged to catch up with her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you or make you mad or anything. Please forgive me if I overstepped."

And now the guilt was in her lap. Ears drawn back, she shook her head. "You didn't. I'm sorry, I just…I think it best if we kept things as professional as possible while we're on the clock. That's all."

"Understood."

Desperately hoping to bridge the uneasy gap between them she'd just created, she began to casually smooth her braid down and struck up lighter conversation. "So um, how about lunch? You hungry?"

"Starving, actually."

"Let's get going then.

"Sorry, I can't."

"Huh?" Her eyebrows furrowed in mild perplexity. "Why not?"

"Well…because I'm kind of broke."

"Oh." Waving dismissively, she took his wrist and led him toward the parking lot. "Don't worry about that. It's on me."

[][][]

On the drive through town, Carmelita came up with several suggestions for where they could go, depending on what they were both in the mood for. They settled on a casual bar and grill style restaurant that served a large variety of dishes.

Despite Carmelita reasoning that he didn't need to, he ordered one of the cheapest and most generic things on the menu.

Their waitress, a red panda, who looked to be of college age, was very taken with the attractive raccoon and tried her hardest to let him know without, well, actually letting him know. After taking their orders, giggling and leaning forward in great interest when Sly made his decision, she then strolled towards the kitchen. And Carmelita could practically see the hearts floating around her head as she walked away.

"Sooo…couldn't help but notice you didn't exactly partake in reciprocating," the vixen prodded lightly.

"Huh?"

"I'm talking about our waitress over there. She's either after a big tip or your phone number, because she was flirting hardcore with you."

"Oh…" Sly frowned, glancing back at the smitten red panda before turning to face Carmelita again. "Huh…well joke's on her because I don't have a phone number."

"Did you seriously not pick up on that?"

"What, the flirting? No."

Her lips pressed together in a tight line. "I don't know if I believe that. You can be honest with me, you know, Sly. We're just two coworkers out to lunch together. It's not like this is a date or anything."

"I know. But even if I had noticed, I'm not into casual flirting, so it's kind of a moot point."

"You're not?"

Sly blinked dumbly, leaning back in his chair. "No, I'm not. There's no substance unless you have a connection built. And besides, why would I want to go and pick wildflowers when there's a rose right in front of me?"

And there it was again. Another spellbinding piece of poetry that struck Carmelita right in the heart and left her stunned speechless. He'd said things like before, she gathered it was in his nature, being so suave and charismatic. She assumed it was all part of the game he played. But before, it was always so smarmy, delivered with a proud grin and a wink, as though it was part of his plan, to charm her so she would let her guard down just enough to allow him to make his grand escape. Until the next time they'd meet.

But this time? This time, there was no trace of that smug troublemaker who knew he was one step ahead. This time, there was no running away, no master plan. They weren't staring each other down as the master thief and the Inspector.

Now, they were just Sly and Carmelita.

"You're alright, Cooper," she finally said.

"Not so bad yourself, Fox."

He'd managed to make her laugh again, and it delighted him to no end.

"So, if I do well on the job, keep up a good work ethic, can we have more outings like this? Just us two?" he asked.

She was nibbling her lower lip, staring back at him thoughtfully. Almost…dreamily. Ahh damn it, now _she_ was the one flirting! _Well that's what I get for pointing fingers._

"I think that sounds like a lovely idea," she finally answered. "But some nights for dinner, until we find out where you live, you might have to settle for home-cooked meals. Save some money and all that. Oh! That reminds me." Pulling out her wallet, she held out a few bills. "Here, take this. There's a department store that's a quick bus ride from my apartment. When we get off, you can head out and buy yourself some new clothes. Just for you to have until we locate your previous place of residence. We haven't had much luck in the system, and so far, no relatives or friends have reached out to help yet. But don't worry, we'll keep at it." When he didn't immediately accept the money, she gave an encouraging nod of her head. "Go on, take it. I insist."

Sly still hesitated. But the vixen was adamant. So he accepted the money with a smile. "Thank you. Not just for this, but I mean, for everything. For staying with me at the hospital despite how exhausted we both were, for giving me a place to stay, even if it's just temporary, for spending your valuable time on the clock getting me familiar with everything again. You didn't have to do any of this, and it really does mean a lot to me, Carmelita. Just so you know."

She tucked a strand of dark blue hair behind a two-toned ear, granting him a smile that was warmer, brighter, and more open than anyone she'd granted him before. It was the first time he'd called her by her first name without being prompted.

And how divine it sounded. So much so, that she found herself looking forward to the moment she'd have the pleasure of hearing him say it again.

* * *

 _Note : If you're wondering why they didn't wear earmuffs in the range, we're gonna say it's because shock projectiles aren't nearly as loud as bullets. And not because I can't wrap my head around how they'd even go about wearing them with those big pointy ears of theirs on top of their heads...yea..._ _I think I covered everything else though._

 _And the fun has just begun. :) Until next time!_


	3. Chapter 3 Learning the Ropes

Chapter 3 Learning the Ropes

* * *

Carmelita was hard at work, which was nothing new for the ever dedicated Inspector. She sat at her desk, writing up a series of mundane traffic stop reports. It wasn't difficult. In fact, she could just about do it blindfolded. But she really had to put a dent in this stack, or a certain badger would be yelling her into a deafening oblivion.

Her office door had been left open. That _was_ new. Normally whenever she was at her desk, her door was closed as she poured over evidence or information on leads of the endless cases that always fell into her lap. And anyone who dared come in would get a curt "Not now, I'm busy!"

Today, however, her door was open, and instead of slouching at her desk, scanning papers with tired, annoyed eyes, she appeared relaxed. Or, perhaps, more relaxed than she had been over the past several days.

So absorbed in her work was she, that she didn't notice the figure standing at the threshold of her office. He admired her in silence, arms crossed, his stance casual, a soft smile stretched across his face. Not many men had the fortune of laying eyes on a goddess, and he got to do it all the time. He had to catch himself, before he started to take it for granted.

But the coffee in his grip would get cold soon, and he couldn't have that happen. A true lady deserved hot brew and nothing less. And he'd make sure she got it!

Free hand forming a fist, he lifted it and gently knocked it against the door. Redundant, perhaps, but polite all the same. "Morning, Inspector."

Only when he spoke did she look away from her reports, lowering her reading glasses. "Oh, Tony, good morning!"

"How do you say it in Spanish again?" he asked, walking forward. "Manera? Man…manoa?"

She supplied him with a deadpan expression and an arched brow, but followed it up with a short laugh that quickly died on her tongue. "Mañana," she corrected.

"Right…I took two years of it in high school, but I didn't ace it exactly."

"Really? Mm, could've fooled me."

He nervously combed at his spiked head fur with a small grin, clearing his throat, as if that would help cover up his little blunder. "Uh, anyways, here. Got this for you." He held out the cup of coffee. "It's dark roast. Just how you like it. Since the community coffee maker is broken, may it rest in peace, I knew you might be in need of a fix."

She tilted her head, eyeing the drink a moment, before smiling up at him. "Thank you, but you didn't have to do that. I could've made a run."

"I know, but now you don't have to worry about it. Constable Tony saves the day." He held up his hands. "No need for praise, it's all in a day's work."

"I'll call the paper, I'm sure this is a story worthy of making the front page," she playfully quipped, taking a sip. The warm brew coated her throat and she could already feel the caffeine working its glorious magic.

He chuckled. "Don't alert the paper quite yet, but I do have a confession. I didn't just come by to give you coffee. I came by to see how you're doing."

Her gaze had begun to wander back to her work, but at his question, she looked back up at him. "Is that right?" She smirked. "I'm fine, thanks. Much better now that Sly's in the system and is on our side."

Tony frowned. "Yea…I'm really not sure how I feel about all of that, just to be perfectly honest with you..."

"About all of what, exactly?"

"You know, Sly Cooper, working for Interpol. After all the years he spent as a criminal. It just doesn't really seem all that fair to me, that he can just waltz in here and be a cop now. With the crazy record he had."

"He has retrograde amnesia. Anything he's done previously can't be held against him."

"All because he doesn't remember? So all his wrongdoings get to just be tossed out because he got a bump to the head?"

She pushed her stack of papers aside. "Tony, there's good in him, I know it. Yes, he was a criminal, but he and I worked together to take down some pretty big threats in the past. Granted, I was usually put in a position where I had no choice but to accept his help. But still, we've worked together quite a bit. He's not a bad guy, I think he was just…misguided. But things are going to be different now. He's one of us. He's going to help us put a stop to the rampant crime plaguing the city, instead of be part of it."

He made no attempt to agree, hiding the annoyance it brought him that she had so skillfully danced right around his question while still giving him a nice, flowery response. _One of us? Yea, sure. We'll see about that._

"You still gotta understand that it's not going to be easy for a lot of the officers, to treat him…you know, like a regular guy."

"Well if some of them had any ounce of decency somewhere in their hardened hearts, maybe they could find it in them to try." She removed her glasses, brown eyes narrowing. "And don't think you're off the hook for the way you spoke to him by the way. You being a jerk isn't helping anyone, especially not me."

"I know I know, I'm sorry about that. Seriously, I am. It just…this whole thing rubs me the wrong way. Especially when you think about all the cops around here that fought tooth and claw to get where they are. You, included."

Her expression softened and she sighed, rising from her chair and walking towards the male fox. "Look, I understand that you're bothered by him joining the force. And I also understand why it bothers you, and others around here. Really, I do. But all I'm asking is that you give him a chance, alright? To prove that he can be the genuine guy I really believe him to be."

He folded his arms across his broad chest, exhaling in a heavy huff and shaking his head. "And what happens when he gets his memory back? Then what?"

The vixen's chestnut gaze quickly fell to the floor, teeth worrying at her lower lip. "…I don't have an answer for that. But we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get there. For now, please, try to be nice to him? Or civil, at least. I know you can do that much. Because unlike some of the others that walk these halls, you have a heart. Something I've admired about you from the very beginning."

He slowly lifted a finger, lips parting in mild suspicion. "Are you…are you trying to use compliments to persuade me into considering your argument?"

"Is it working?"

He grinned, bristly tail swaying as he gave an amused chuckle. "Carmelita I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were better than that."

"Call it a desperation tactic."

"Mmm, maybe I'll give that a try myself, amongst my many other tricks for this interrogation I have to go conduct in about…" He turned his wrist to read the time on his watch. "Ten minutes."

"Oh, so interrogating me was your warm-up exercise then?" she asked, one hip cocked to the side.

"Depends…"

"On what?"

"On if saying yes would offend you or not."

She smirked and rolled her eyes, giving his arm a light smack. "Ten minutes isn't very long from now. You should probably be over there by now, instead of wasting time in here talking to me."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold on. Any time spent with you is not time wasted, let's get that straight right now."

"You're sweet, Scruffy. But time wasted or not, I won't be able to help you out of trouble if you're late. Go on, get going." She led him out into the hallway. "I need to get out of this office for a bit anyways. I've been looking over reports for so long I'm about to start seeing double. And my legs could use a little stretching too."

"Alright alright, go stretch those legs." Those long, enticingly beautiful legs.

"Already on it," she called, waving over her shoulder as she sauntered off. "See you later, Tony."

Conflicting feelings shot back and forth in his mind like a volleyball in a tournament as he watched her descend the stairs. Leaning against the wall, he allowed himself a frustrated groan. "Stupid coward," he muttered to himself. "Why can't you just be honest with her?"

"Well if it isn't the lone fox talking to himself in the hallway again."

He looked up to see his ibex friend walking over.

"Hi Matthias," he mumbled, the back of his head meeting the wall with a soft thud.

"The answer is rejection, by the way. You're scared of being turned down and being locked out of any chance to woo her. You and about ten other guys here."

"Yea but all of them are just after a quick lay. She's so much more than that. I can't even tell you how many times I've imagined what it would be like to hold her in my arms and call her mine." He cringed. "But I can't even bring her coffee without stumbling over myself because I'm a big, dumb… _idiot_!" He beat his head against the wall one more time. For good measure.

Matthias could only shake his head in pity. "You poor, sad fool. If I had my guitar with me, I'd play you a song you could hopelessly pine for her to."

"Shut up."

The ibex laughed gently at his friend's unamused glare. "Seriously though, it might not be the best time to try getting her attention. She appears pretty distracted with babysitting her new 'partner.'"

" _Don't_ remind me…" The fox began to bare his teeth, hand curling into a tense fist.

"Hey, come on now, I'm just as shocked as you are that the higher-ups actually agreed to let him work here. But he doesn't seem so bad. Maybe he'll surprise us all and be a kickass Constable. And who knows? You two might end up being friends."

He and Sly Cooper? Friends?! If that raccoon kept spending as much time around the vixen as he had been recently, there was no way in heaven or hell that was happening.

Tony scoffed in disdain. "Yea, with his history, he's gonna have a hard time making friends with _anyone_ around here."

[]

"Uh, hi. I'm looking for Constable Dubois."

"You found him."

Sly had to tilt his head back to look the other officer in the eye. He was a great big Tibetan mastiff, about triple the raccoon's size, and could probably crush his head like a grape, if he so chose.

"Constable Cooper," the mastiff acknowledged, voice rumbling out in a deep bass. "Good to meet ya. And you can just call me Joaquim. Less stuffy that way." He offered his hand to the other.

Sly reached up and shook the canine's hand, albeit, loosely, hoping his fingers wouldn't be crushed to death by the dog's enormous mitts.

A deep chuckle rumbled in the mastiff's chest as he withdrew. "Don't worry, I know my own strength."

Sly coughed out a sheepish chuckle of his own. "Right. So uh, I'm gonna be your shadow today, or at least, that's what I understand?"

Joachim nodded. "Yea, you'll be coming with me on traffic control. Very easy, mostly pretty boring. But hey, someone's gotta do it." He led the amnesiac down the hall to the elevators.

"So, is this something Inspector Fox and I sometimes do when she isn't in her office?"

Joachim snorted an inward laugh, pressing the button to close the door. "Negative. Outside of HQ, Carmelita's time is reserved for pursuing targets and leads from the various top tier cases she's on. She gets the shark tank, and that's where she stays. The community pool of traffic control is saved for those of us that would rather not have that kind of responsibility to deal with. And today, you. But my guess is that the chief wants to start you back off on small fry stuff anyways."

"Good to know."

Sly followed Joaquim out to where his cruiser was parked. "You get shotgun," the mastiff told him. "'Cause I'm nice. But don't be surprised if some of the knuckleheads in the precinct use your botched memory as a chance to take you through a re-hazing process. I'm not like that though, so you're safe." The smallest hint of a smirk tugged at the canine's lips. "For now."

"Thanks for the heads up," Sly answered, taking seat on the passenger's side. "So uh, if you don't mind, could you jog this botched memory of mine? Remind me what this part of the job involves?"

Joaquim started the car and drove onto the highway, not paying any mind to the fact that everyone around them slowed down dramatically. Sly however, took immediate notice.

"We have a post we're assigned to each time we have control duty, usually at an intersection or near a traffic-heavy spot. We go there, camp out by the road, make sure no one is speeding, and if anyone is, we clock 'em with the radar gun." He showed Sly the handy little device. "And if need be, we pull 'em over, run the info, give 'em a ticket and that's it. I can usually tell if someone's having a bad day based on their answers and tone, so I usually let those off with a warning and send them on their way."

"That's…the nicest thing I've heard a cop say. I mean, that I can remember."

Joaquim shrugged. "Life sucks sometimes. You never know what's goin' on in someone's life on a given day. Sometimes if I have to reach my quota, I look for the impatient rich kid in shades weaving back and forth in a car that's way too expensive and blaring his music way too loud, windows down so we can all 'enjoy' it with him. Because that just spells obnoxious plain as day. Or ya know, someone who had a few too many to drink and think they can drive but they're swervin' all over the road. Gotta shut that down pretty fast. But the mom with four kids that's just trying to get them all to ballet and soccer and art club? Yea, she can be cut a little slack. And I'd be lyin' if I didn't admit that I let off the nervous first-time driver or the pretty gal that starts to tear up when I get to her window. Bein' a cop is a big power trip for some folks. I'm not one of 'em."

Sly nodded, hit by a wave of admiration for the mastiff officer. It really made him wonder what kind of cop he'd desired to be, before his injury. He hoped he too, had striven to be someone the public could count on. Like this guy.

Once Joaquim had stopped the cruiser at their assigned spot, he turned one of the knobs on the police scanner. "Always a good idea to stay tuned into this thing. And make good use of your dispatch radio too," he informed, pointing to the device attached to Sly's collar. "Just on the off chance another officer needs backup and we're close enough to help. Communication is top priority when you're goin' after someone and it starts to get hairy. But don't get too excited for that. I think I can count on one hand the times where my day became more than clocking how fast cars go on the highway. And it's a Thursday. Probably won't see anything too crazy today."

But what happened an hour or so into camping out by the busy intersection would make the seasoned officer rethink what he'd told the raccoon.

They'd both been listening to the radio and hadn't seen anyone speeding yet. Then both pairs of ears flattened as the screech of burning rubber sliced through the air out of nowhere. And then both pairs of eyes widened, watching as a battered silver jeep spun out and nearly caused a wreck right in front of them, forcing several drivers to slam on their brakes and honk angrily at the culprit. But instead of driving normally from there, the owner of the jeep zipped through the cars they'd forced to stop and kept right on going, blatantly ignoring red light and gunning it well over the speed limit.

"Alright…I stand corrected."

"You going after him?" asked Sly.

In reply, Joaquim threw the gear shift into drive and took off. "Hang on," he told the raccoon, eyes narrowing as he gripped the wheel.

The sheer force of acceleration almost yanked the breath right out of the raccoon and pulled him right back against the seat, gripping the cloth interior as they were sent flying down the street. "Hanging."

Joaquim flipped on the sirens, allowing for easier access to the road ahead. And naturally, everyone responded accordingly, except for the driver of the battered vehicle. The cars parted to each side of the road like curtains signaling a show was about to begin.

And the jeep zoomed ahead, going even faster now.

"Dumbass," the canine muttered. "Now I know you got something to hide."

He sped up, and the miscreant driver did the same, clearly wanting to maintain space between them. But Joaquim wouldn't allow for very much, foot planted firmly on the gas pedal, an iron grip on the wheel.

"Hey, Cooper. When I get close enough, run the license plate for me. That way we'll have a head start with the crap this one's gonna put us through."

"On it."

As they inched closer, however, Sly realized that his task was going to prove to be an impossible one.

"Uhhh, there isn't one…"

Joaquim glared ahead, nostrils flaring. "I'll be damned. You're right. Shoulda' known."

The chase went on for another five minutes and the suspect showed no sign of slowing down. That is, until the stubborn driver overcorrected on an extremely sharp turn and the jeep slammed right into the side of a building. Screams erupted from the sidewalk, groups fleeing the area, while some ran towards the crash.

The canine's jaw had dropped, eyebrow meeting over stunned eyes. "This maniac's gonna get somebody killed!" He safely stopped the cruiser, but made sure he had stopped in easy walking distance of the crashed jeep while staying far enough way to protect himself if the suspect was armed. "If he doesn't kill himself first."

As Joaquim began to step out of the car, Sly remained in place, governed by pure instinct.

But he didn't stay for long, for a bladed weapon came sailing towards the windshield.

"Cooper! Down! _Now_!"

The raccoon had already thrown the door open and was crouching on the other side of the car, fur bristling in alarm as he heard the glass of the cruiser's windshield shatter.

"Stay down!" yelled Joaquim from his side.

"I am!" he yelled back, voice muffled as he pressed his face to the asphalt.

When the sound of breaking glass had ceased, Sly took the risk of peering around the car's front tire.

A brown and white spotted rabbit was scrambling out of the wreckage and was booking it down an alley.

Instinct struck again as Sly reached down to make sure his pistol was holstered properly, and then he jumped up. "Come on, let's go after him on foot."

"I can't leave the scene! I gotta stay and search his jeep and do damage control. We can call for backup—"

"No time, he'll be long gone by then. New plan. You stay, I'll take care of him."

Joaquim wanted to object to such a dicey decision. But he found he was too impressed with the raccoon's speed as he made a mad dash for the alley, following the suspect's trail.

"That is one crazy raccoon," he muttered to himself in disbelief before contacting dispatch. He was gonna need that backup now anyway.

Meanwhile, Sly chased the runaway rabbit through the busy Paris streets. Though the rabbit ran remarkably fast, and would dart around a corner at random to try and lose his pursuer, Sly remained hot on his heels.

But the rabbit had a trick to pull from his hat. Sunlight reflected off a bladed edge of a small weapon he held between two fingers. He flung it, the weapon zipping through the air and making a very dangerous beeline for the chasing officer.

Thanks to Sly's quick reaction time, he ducked down right as the sharp weapon flew over his head.

The rabbit hadn't waited to see if he'd slowed the officer down, but a swivel of his long ears as Sly gained on him again forced him to look over his shoulder. Glaring daggers at the resilient cop, he kept right on running, and before either of them knew it, he'd led Sly straight into a huge construction site.

Bulldozers, cranes, and forklifts were all in operation, as well as a rather noisy set of jackhammers.

The rabbit sneered back at Sly before hopping onto the lowering neck of a crane nearby.

His vixen partner would've probably taken the chance to shoot right there, but instead, he waited, wanting to ensure a direct hit.

Sly caught a faint glimpse of surprise in the rabbit's expression as their chase continued. Following on with fiery purpose, he catapulted himself off and onto the next construction vehicle in leaping distance.

Down below, the workers in hard hats gawked up at the two as they jumped from moving platform to platform, landing on stacks of materials that were being transported by means of forklift and sailing off to scale the skeletal framework of the building the crew was in the middle of constructing. Sly almost lost his footing on a piece of the foundation that wasn't totally secure. His tail bushy tail helped him keep precious balance, however, and he pushed on without a fatal fall bringing him down.

Reaching the other end of the site, the rabbit took to the rooftops beyond. Surely that sort of route would slow the cop down.

To the mysterious miscreant's aggravation, it did not. If anything, the Constable's speed picked up. Again, the rabbit tried to slow him down with a couple more of his bladed projectiles, and each time, the cop would duck or jump out of range, and he did so in a way that was…oddly graceful, for a cop.

As he effortlessly cleared gap after gap between the buildings of differing heights, he was struck with another jolt of familiarity. Like the one he experienced at the station. Why did he feel like he'd been here before, only with something other than a pistol in his grip? Something larger…lighter…something that gleamed bright gold in the light. Light that was…somehow different than these bright rays of sun beating down. And yet, vaguely similar all the same.

He couldn't really stop to think about it, or he'd lose sight of this guy and this would all be for naught.

He watched the rabbit spring up and over a very wide gap, one that Sly himself didn't even think he could clear. There was however, an electrical line about a foot away. Knowing he had to act now, he planted himself on the wire and swiftly scaled it, making his way to the other rooftop ahead.

The rabbit was standing on the chimney of said rooftop, scowling in disbelief as the raccoon closed in. In a last ditch effort to get away, the rabbit pulled out one more of his small bladed projectiles and use it to cut the wire at his end, hand flying back as the freed sparks zapped him.

Sly watched the ends of the wire begin to snap. That's when adrenaline kicked in and he dashed forward, knowing his life literally depended on it. The second he felt the wire give way, he jumped, hurdling over what was left of the gap. He grabbed the ledge and hugged himself to it, grunting in pain at where his shoulder collided with the roof's sharp corner. Wincing, he pushed himself up in time to see the rabbit trying to run for the next rooftop.

"I don't think so," muttered Sly. Kneeling on the roof's surface, he took out his pistol. It still felt weird to have to use it but he was getting winded. This would have to be a shot to count.

With no time to lose, he aimed and quickly fired, sending an electric orb rocketing from the barrel. It hit the rabbit's leg and he cursed loudly before staggering and falling over.

Sly sighed, slumping forward. "Gotcha."

While the rabbit was recovering from the effects of the hit he'd taken, Sly made haste rolling him over and cuffing him.

"The power of electricity was not on your side today," said Sly as he caught his breath. "Gotta hand it to you though, you put up a good fight."

The rabbit spat in disgust, refusing to look up at the officer. Then, when anger dissipated and acceptance set in, he sighed. "I've never seen a cop as agile as you. You would have my respect, if it was in me to respect anyone with a badge. But it's not."

"Gonna take that as a compliment, even if you didn't mean it that way...erm, Constable Cooper to dispatch," said Sly, speaking into his radio. "I'm currently on a rooftop…uh…somewhere downtown, requesting pickup. Will wait here with suspect until arrival…thanks." He awkwardly fiddled with the radio, hoping he was using it correctly.

A chopper soon made it to their location, and Sly and his catch of the day were transported back down to the ground.

Joaquim was waiting at his cruiser, and when he saw Sly approaching, he smiled in bewilderment, slowly shaking his head. "Cooper, you are out of your damned mind."

"Yea…I know. But I figured if he was panicked enough to flee the scene after wrecking his own vehicle, he was hiding something big. So I had to try."

"I never said it was a bad thing. You did what we're here to do, even if it was a risky move." the mastiff answered, chuckling and clapping a hand the size of a baseball mitt to Sly's back. "You can ride shotgun in my car any time. Well…after I get it repaired, that is."

When they got back to the station, a cluster of Interpol personnel was waiting for them. As Sly walked past, he spotted several impressed faces and he heard a few voices congratulating him on a job well done.

Amongst the smiling faces and voices, a worried female's voice is the one that made him turn his head.

"¡Fuera de mi camino!" ("Out of my way!")

He looked over in time to see Carmelita shove her her way to the front of the group.

"Ayyy!" she cried, rushing up to her ringtailed partner. "Sly! Are you okay? You're not injured, are you?!"

"Uhh, my shoulder hurts a little from where I hit the roof too hard. Might've left a bruise. But other than that, right as rain," he answered with a smile.

The vixen clutched at her chest, giving a small relieved sigh. Then she turned to the tall mastiff standing beside Sly. "Constable Dubois, are you alright? I heard the suspect damaged your windshield."

"Oh I'm fine. I missed all the action after the wreck. If it weren't for Cooper here, that guy would've gotten away. This kid right here is crazy…" Joaquim grinned widely. "I like him."

Carmelita found herself grinning too as her gaze returned to Sly. She smoothed her braided hair down across her shoulder, warm brown eyes displaying a bright sparkle. "Yea…so do I."

Amongst the crowd was a very stern vulpine face, his tight-lipped frown and narrowed gaze a dead giveaway that he was anything but pleased.

[]

Time has a funny way of slowing to a snail's pace as the very times when that isn't desirable. But at long last, the work day had drawn to a close, and Carmelita was eager to meet back up with her partner. Like a maiden imprisoned in her tower, she'd been stuck in her office all day, making calls and catching up on those pesky reports. She did love her job, just not _that_ part of it.

"I want to hear all about your big day," she told him on their way outside. "Over dinner, and don't you leave out a single detail."

"Sounds good. What are we having?"

"Well, if it's alright with you, I thought we could go out to celebrate?"

"Sure, I'd love to. But…what are we celebrating?"

"You, silly!"

He blinked, staring back at her with a puzzled frown. "But I was just doing my job. Besides, I didn't exactly follow protocol, according to the chief..." He scratched at the back of his head, recalling his conversation with the badger.

"That's not important. What's important is that you brought someone to justice before they could cause anyone harm. And get this! They searched his jeep and found a collection of stolen goods collectively worth thousands! If it weren't for you, he'd still be out there. You were a hero today, Constable."

A humble little smile was all he gave in return. "I'm just doing what a cop does. Glad I was able to catch him though. That guy did have some really weird weapons on him. Little metal shapes with bladed tips."

She nodded. "Throwing stars. He had a charred one in his possession, and I'm sure CSI will find the rest. Interesting choice of weapon for self-defense, yet effective. To a point. But let's save that story for telling over a glass of Chardonnay."

"Carmelita, I…haven't gotten paid yet."

"Oh don't you even think about it, you're not paying for this. It's my treat."

"It was your treat last time," he quietly reminded.

The vixen clamped both hands on her hips. "Sly I told you already. I'm going to help you until you can stand on your own again. Please don't feel guilty for letting me buy you dinner a few times. If I didn't want to, I wouldn't offer."

He chuckled at that. "Well, thank you, again. I promise to pay you back when I can."

She waved him off with another of her dazzlingly beautiful smiles. "All the time in the world for that later. Now come on, let's get out of here."

"Right behind you, partner."

The two enjoyed an evening together at an elegant restaurant in the heart of Paris. After their wine was poured and served, Carmelita urged Sly to tell the story of his daring takedown earlier, from start to finish. And he happily obliged her, even coaxing a giggle or two out of the vixen as he retold the events of the exciting chase and told her about meeting Constable Dubois.

She was grateful to hear that Joaquim was willing to give Sly a chance. From what she gathered, it sounded like they'd become fast friends too. That was all she wanted for Sly, to find his place here, and make some friends along the way. She only wished Tony would come around and give him a chance as well…

When he'd finished eating, Sly had wandered to the balcony, passing by tables of couples who had opted to dine outside.

Carmelita didn't let him stray too far. Once she'd paid the bill and thanked their server, she followed Sly outside. Her long blue hair ruffled in the night wind as she stepped through the open doors and went over to join him at the railing.

"Is your shoulder any better?" came her concerned voice.

He moved his arm in small circles. "It's fine," he assured. "A little sore, but not a big deal. Just have to ice it later, and I'll be all set." Then, in a slightly warmer tone, he added, "Thanks for checking on me. Sorry for slipping out, just wanted some fresh air."

"Don't be, I could use a little myself." Her gaze swept over the colorful lights and sounds of Paris after nightfall. "The view's great, isn't it? You can almost see the entire city from here."

"It's beautiful," Sly agreed, but instead of looking at the cityscape, he was gazing at her. His gaze remained fixed on hers, as if those deep chestnut pools would unlock the answers to the many questions taunting his recently hollowed mind.

The intuitive vixen inched closer to him. "You look troubled. Everything okay?"

The frown on his muzzle deepened. "Yea, I just…I've noticed that…well, there's lots of dogs and big cats and a few bulls and there's even another fox working at Interpol. But I haven't seen any others…you know, like me…"

Her ears fell back, the chipper sway of her tail slowing to a stop as guilt tried to constrict her heart. But she shook free of it and gently nudged his side, causing him to look back up at her.

"That's because you're one of a kind, Constable. Interpol is very fortunate to have you serve on its force. And _I'm_ very fortunate, to have you as my partner."

Sly began to shake his head. "Sorry, I just...I still can't believe a guy hasn't come along and swept you off your feet yet."

She combed her cobalt locks out of her face as the wind began to pick up. "It's not that I wouldn't want it, if the right one came along. But I stopped looking a long time ago. And now…well, like I told you, I stay pretty busy with my job. And…" She looked away, sliding an uneasy hand along her arm. "I tend to keep my guard up. I can come off as rigid and a little abrasive to most. And when my temper flares, it _really_ flares. Like, we're talking wildfire levels."

His brows arched in surprise. "Really now? I haven't seen that side of you."

"That's because you haven't made me mad. When you do, trust me you'll see it. But all of that put together makes it pretty easy to scare guys away most of the time."

Sly shrugged indifferently. "A little rigidity and a fiery temper doesn't scare a real man away. Because he'd be able to see beyond that, see the girl for who she is underneath. And when someone comes along ready to face the fire, a guy you consider worthy enough to have your heart, I just hope you let him. Chasing after crooks is noble, and fun, but it all seems so pointless to me, if you don't chase after your own happiness too. And you're way too lovely a girl to not let yourself be happy, Carmelita."

It was a really good thing that balcony was there to help anchor the vixen in place, because her knees were about to give out. That silver tongue had a much more powerful effect on her now that it belonged to someone in uniform.

"You deserve to be happy too," she murmured, hesitantly reaching over to brush her wrist against his. It wasn't holding hands, but it was a really good start.

They both smiled softly at one another before Sly tore his gaze away to look up at the starry night sky. "That hunt for Mr. Right is gonna have to wait though, until I save up enough money to move out of your apartment; I don't think anyone trying to date you would approve of you having your very single partner as your roommate. Something tells me that would be a tricky situation to explain your way out of."

Her gentle laughter filled the open air. "That's true, might be a good idea to hold off on that. In the meantime, I think I'll just enjoy the extra time I get to spend with my partner." She lightly brushed her tail against his and gazed up at him with unmistakable fondness in her eyes. "He makes for pretty great company."

* * *

 _Aww yay, Sly made him a friend! At least for now, until that memory of his comes back..._

 _And there's still many more things I have left to address, but that's it for the time being._

 _Thanks again for the feedback, it's greatly appreciated! Catch ya next time!_


End file.
